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The collected opinions of an august and aristocratic personage who, despite her body having succumbed to the ravages of time, yet retains the keen intellect, mordant wit and utter want of tact for which she was so universally lauded in her younger days. Being of a generation unequal to the mysterious demands of the computing device, Lady Bracknell relies on the good offices of her Editor for assistance with the technological aspects of her journal.

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Location: Bracknell Towers

Saturday, May 31, 2008

A rapprochement

I am relieved to report that, whatever the cause of the friction between my camera and my computer was, it now appears to have been resolved: the two are once again willing to communicate.

Which means that, some weeks later than I had originally hoped, I can bring you a rare photograph I took when Caspar was helpfully showing off her pretty back paws and didn't run off to hide the moment she caught wind of the camera. (Those glowing green eyes are a bit of a worry, mind...)

Possibly rarer yet - and taken on the same occasion - a photograph in which she doesn't look affronted!

The Editor


Blogger Dame Honoria Glossop said...

Cute kitty, mostly I get photos of the tip of a brown tail vanishing round a door.

8:51 pm  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Hee! Pretty pink puddy pads! Such a precious little poofkele!

(Yes, I would speak to her like this in person, too, which would doubtless only be interpreted as more effrontery. The value of dignity is lost on me, and every cat I encounter knows it at once.)

3:22 pm  
Blogger Lady Bracknell said...

Oh, it's not the sweet talk that she objects to - it's having her photograph taken!

In almost every photograph I've ever taken of her, she has her ears back and a haughty expression on her face. Or she is a black and white blur. For a cat who had her pelvis broken in an RTA, she can't half move...

9:15 pm  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Cute kitty? Cute kitty!!

Madame Caspar is a Lady of considerable poise and dignity, not to mention great taste - not unlike her human companion.

She always runs a mile when she sees me (Caspar that is, not her Ladyship). I rest my case.


6:03 pm  

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